


Crossed Wires

by mag_lex



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Smut, Strap-Ons, i can't say anything else because it'll spoil the surprise, slightly cracky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 08:13:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25467568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mag_lex/pseuds/mag_lex
Summary: When Yaz asks the Doctor to spice things up in bed, her solution is not quite what Yaz expected...
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 20
Kudos: 88





	Crossed Wires

**Author's Note:**

  * For [timelxrd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelxrd/gifts).



> Amy (aka timelxrd), you are one of my favourite writers in this fandom. You bring so much joy to SO many of us and the least I could think to do was try and return the favour, or at least try and make you laugh! Or scar you for life, who knows.

Yaz knows the Doctor is up to something because she’s more furtive than usual. Yaz senses she’s being watched as the TARDIS prepares to land but when she turns, the Doctor’s head turns away so fast it almost gives Yaz whiplash to watch. Then, when they depart the TARDIS on an alien planet and realise they need to divide and conquer, Yaz is flummoxed when the Doctor suggests that she and Ryan pair up; she’d been prepared to follow the Doctor, as usual. The Doctor shoots what Yaz guesses is meant to be a reassuring smile at her before she’s gone in a twirl of her coat tails.

“That’s weird,” Ryan frowns, scratching his head as they watch the others depart. He’s equally bemused and was no doubt expecting to be partnered with Graham. 

“Yeah,” Yaz agrees. She tries not to let it get to her, but she’d been looking forward to spending some alone time with the Doctor. “There must be a reason, though. Anyway, it’s probably about time we mixed things up a bit, right?” she grins, and when Ryan grins back she almost forgets her confusion at the Doctor’s behaviour. 

Almost. 

When they reunite later, the Doctor decides to talk to Ryan on their walk back to the TARDIS. 

“I don’t know how you normally keep up with her, Yaz,” says Graham. ”She’s like the energiser bunny today, I had to ask her to slow down.”

Yaz frowns. She knows the Doctor can be energetic, but Graham can keep up more often than not. Even now, she’s storming ahead. Ryan has long enough legs that he does not to seem to find her pace to be an issue. 

“Was she...alright?” Yaz asks, wondering how else to ask the question that’s been burning at the back of her mind all day. 

“She seemed a little distracted, if I’m honest,” he ponders. “Not that it stopped her from explaining how 42 really is the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything. Then she started asking me pub quiz questions, all while figuring out the solution to the problem that was bothering our new friends.”

Yaz sighs. Although it all sounds very Doctor-like, her behaviour is a little more frantic than usual. And her odd energy doesn’t seem to dissipate, even once the boys have left and finally,  _ finally _ , they are left alone. 

“So then, I just had to figure out why they were so reluctant to show me the shrine. It was obviously, really, when I realised where-”

“Doctor?” Yaz interrupts. She’s feeling dizzy just from watching her striding around the console, nattering away. The Doctor freezes and the abrupt stop is almost worse; Yaz can practically see the energy inside her just bursting to get out. 

“Yes?”

“Are you alright? You seem a little on edge, today,” Yaz ventures. She watches the Doctor’s body language, which is a pretty good indication of how she’s feeling. When her shoulders tense, Yaz knows something is up, even when the Doctor tries to protest otherwise. 

“It’s just...you’ve been a bit frazzled, is all.”

The Doctor turns and finally looks at her, clearly offended. 

“Hey, it’s alright,” Yaz soothes, killing the rebuttal before the Doctor can get into the swing of it. “You can just tell me, you know.” She steps closer, moving slowly so as not to spook her. 

She knows she’s making progress when the tension in the Doctor’s shoulders eases and they slump, like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Yaz hates to see her look so glum and she closes the final distance between them, wrapping careful arms around her waist. 

“What’s up?” she asks. 

The Doctor huffs but she doesn’t move away. It’s progress, kind of. 

“Well…” she starts, and then she worries at her lip for a moment with her teeth. It suddenly dawns on Yaz that the Doctor is nervous. It takes her by complete surprise but it all adds up - the furtive glances, the frantic energy, the inability to make eye contact - and Yaz endeavours to put her at ease. 

“You can tell me,” she assures her. “Whatever you say won’t leave this room.”

The Doctor looks around them and Yaz almost laughs until she remembers that they aren’t actually alone. She’s certain the TARDIS is listening in and that gives her a clue about the nature of the Doctor’s dilemma.

“You know the other day? When we were talking?”

Yaz racks her brain. They talk a lot. 

“You might need to give me a hint,” she admits, trying to be patient. The suspense is killing her. She’s never seen the Doctor like this before. 

“When we were talking in bed, just after I made you sit on my-”

“Oh, yes,” Yaz cuts in, blushing. She knows exactly the conversation the Doctor is alluding to and the memory of what preceded it is enough to turn the tables and make her awkward. 

“You said you wanted to try something new. And I had an idea. A good idea. A really good idea. I think. I’m just not sure what you’ll make of it.”

Yaz’s eyes light up. She’d dropped a none-too-subtle hint the other day and she waits for the Doctor to continue. It’s not like their sex life is boring, it’s just that she really, really wants to try something in particular with the Doctor. She’s almost certain she’ll be good at it.

“I thought maybe we could try it? Tonight?"

Yaz is now flummoxed for an entirely different reason but she nods eagerly. The Doctor grins, apparently relieved that Yaz is on board. 

“Alright. I need to go and prepare but come by in half an hour? If you can wait that long,” the Doctor winks. It’s exaggerated but it still flusters Yaz, who wonders how on earth she’s going to kill half an hour when she knows what’s coming.

The anticipation drives her to the Doctor’s room five minutes early. She paces outside of the door for the remainder, dressed only in a big, fluffy dressing gown. Underneath lies a surprise of her own and she hopes the outer layer will throw the Doctor off completely. After all, if the Doctor is going to try something new for her, then the least she can do is make an effort. 

The lingerie is a little more revealing than anything she'd normally wear but she'd spied it when she'd been doing some research and she is curious to see the Doctor's reaction to it. That thought prompts her to knock and she tries not to fidget as she awaits a response. Long seconds drift past without a single sound from inside so Yaz tries again, then gives up and turns the door handle when no answer is forthcoming.

“Doctor?” she calls out, scanning the room. The bed is still made, which is new - the Doctor never normally bothers - but there’s no sign of her. 

Then there’s a noise from one of the adjoining rooms and Yaz wanders over, listening out for further clues. She realises the Doctor is in the dressing room when she hears a muffled bump from within. 

“Doctor?” 

She knocks on the closed door.

“Yaz! Wait there. I’ll be just a moment.”

Yaz sighs, relieved that at least the Doctor is where she said she’d be, even if she’s not ready. Yaz feels a wave of heat between her thighs when she pictures just what the Doctor is up to on the other side of the door. 

“Take a seat,” the Doctor suggests. “And close your eyes.”

Yaz smirks. The Doctor is not good at traditional surprises but she’s obviously trying and Yaz feels her heart swell a little at the sentiment. She looks around for somewhere to settle and opts for the plush armchair in the corner, doing as the Doctor asked and closing her eyes. 

“Are you going to be much longer?” she asks, trying to keep her voice level. Her heart is racing with anticipation. 

“Patience is a virtue,” the Doctor replies, and then the door opens. Yaz screws her eyes tighter shut because she knows she wants to look more than anything. This surprise will be worth the wait, she knows. 

She gasps when she feels the Doctor draw near and then there’s the pressure of thighs pressing against her own as the Doctor, apparently, straddles her lap. Yaz grasps the arms of the chair in a death grip. She’s almost certain the Doctor is completely naked but her gown is making it hard to tell. 

“Alright, Yaz,” the Doctor murmurs, and Yaz startles a little when she realises just how close she is. “Took me a while to find it but I hope it’s worth the wait. You can open ‘em.”

Yaz takes a calming breath and opens her eyes. Then they open wider as her jaw drops. 

“What….”

The Doctor is indeed naked, and in her lap. Well, almost naked. She’s wearing something and it’s distracting enough that Yaz doesn’t really notice the bare breasts so close to her face, or the toned expanse of stomach that she loves to kiss. 

No, what draws her attention is the red fez perched jauntily atop the Doctor’s head. 

Yaz blinks, as if she’s trying to clear the remnants of a dream. She must be dreaming this, surely. Why else would the Doctor be naked in her lap wearing nothing but a fez?

Yaz starts to laugh.  _ Because she’s the Doctor, that’s why. _

The Doctor tilts her head and narrows her eyes. 

“I thought you wanted to spice things up a bit?” she asks, genuinely confused by Yaz’s reaction. Yaz realises she seems a little hurt by her response and tries to stop the next wave of laughter that threatens to be her undoing. The Doctor does look very cute in a fez but this was not at all what she’d meant when she’d said she’d wanted to spice things up a bit. It serves her right for not being explicit, Yaz realises; she needs to be more upfront about what she means and now is as good a time as any. 

“I...yeah, I meant more along the lines of a...a toy, or something.” 

“A what?” Doctor tilts her head again and the tassel moves with the motion. She looks slightly ridiculous but Yaz can feel the warmth of where their legs are pressed together and has to make a concerted effort not to look at how the Doctor’s straddling her lap so brazenly. As ridiculous as she looks, she’s also naked and Yaz is only human. A very horny human, apparently. 

“Like a dildo,” she says, trying to will her cheeks to stop flaming. “A strap-on, actually.”

“Oh!” A lightbulb clearly goes off in the Doctor’s head. “I've got plenty of those. Why didn't you say!”

She’s so matter of fact that it takes Yaz a moment to compute just what she’s said.

“You've….got plenty?”

“Just in case.”

“Just in case,” Yaz repeats faintly. She wonders if she should try pinching herself to make sure this really isn’t some kind of weird dream, which she’s been having more of since she met the Doctor. But the Doctor’s cool palm on her warm cheek is very real.

“Yaz are you ok? Or is the fez really doing it for you?” She wiggles her eyebrows and Yaz clears her throat. That fez needs to go but more importantly, Yaz doesn’t want the Doctor to dig out some well-used toy that’s seen better days.

“Could we maybe get a new one? I don't know where they've been.” It’s true; for all she knows, the Doctor has used them on nobody but herself (she doesn’t really like to think of the alternative) but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.

“Of course, Yaz. The TARDIS could probably make you one-”

“No.” Yaz shakes her head vehemently. The thought makes her so uncomfortable that her arousal actually takes a dive.   


“I could Kerblam! it? Oh, wait. That would probably take too long to arrive.” The Doctor’s face falls and Yaz realises she’s trying her best. Secretly, she’s relieved the option has been ruled out; the thought of a Kerblam! Man delivering a strap-on is also not that appealing.

“Wait. Just...find a clean one. You can’t have used them all?”

The Doctor frowns. “You’re right. I’ve got spares tucked away somewhere. I do for most things, just in case of emergencies. Hold onto your horses, Yaz. I’ll be right back.”

_ Spares?  _

“What kind of emergencies do you normally have?” Yaz mutters, but the Doctor is already gone. Yaz ogles her bare backside as she saunters over to the dressing room, tassel swinging with her steps. She just about pulls it off but Yaz can’t help but groan at the miscommunication. She has a sinking suspicion that she’s not seen the last of the fez and she wishes she’d just been more upfront to begin with. It’s not like the Doctor is ever remotely bothered by what she says, anyway.

Yaz is so wrapped up in her thoughts that when the Doctor reappears, it takes her a little by surprise. She’s no longer wearing the fez; instead, it’s in one hand and in the other…

Yaz swallows, hard. 

“So who gets to wear this?” the Doctor asks, boldly presenting the strapon for Yaz to see. It’s a little bigger than she was expecting but she can’t deny that the thought of the Doctor taking her with it is more than a little appealing. 

“I thought you could?” Yaz finds she’s suddenly a little shy but the Doctor has enough confidence for the both of them. She finally deposits the fez by the bed and easily slips the harness on. Yaz tries to ignore the way the toy bounces as the Doctor closes the distance between them. Up close, it’s even more intimidating and she turns her attention to the Doctor’s face instead. Her expression is inscrutable but Yaz can tell she’s on board with the idea judging by the way the tips of her ears have turned pink. It’s a telltale sign. 

“Have you done that before?” Yaz asks, by way of conversation, tugging lightly on the straps. 

“I'm a quick learner,” the Doctor shrugs, before she guides Yaz to her feet and, eyebrow raised in question, waits for Yaz’s nod to tug on the belt holding Yaz’s robe closed. Apparently she’s no longer in the mood for talking, but the moment the robe falls away, Yaz delights in her response. 

The Doctor’s eyes widen comically as she takes in the lace on display. 

“Wow, Yaz. If I had the real thing it'd be doing that right now.” As if to illustrate her point the Doctor gives the erect toy a stroke, seemingly out of habit, and Yaz’s mouth goes dry. The response is not only appreciative but incredibly blunt and she feels her knees start to weaken at the way the Doctor is hungrily taking her in. 

“I mean it Yaz,” the Doctor continues, eyes roving freely over her bare skin. Although it’s probably one of the oddest compliments Yaz has received, the Doctor’s expression is so earnest that Yaz finds herself calming just a little. But when the Doctor’s hands start to outline the material she can feel the weakness in her knees spreading downwards and she gasps at the feather-light touch. 

“You should sit down before you fall down,” the Doctor murmurs. “It’d make the next bit a lot easier.”

Yaz all but collapses onto the armchair, relieved to feel something else supporting her weight. She was almost certain that gravity was going to embarrass her but instead she embarrasses herself as the Doctor gets to her knees, nudging Yaz’s thighs apart. The movement makes her groan as she realises just what’s about to happen. 

“All about the preparation,” the Doctor clarifies, and then she’s tugging on the scrap of lace that’s protecting Yaz’s modesty. She shifts her hips up and lets them fall back as the Doctor removes her underwear. Then, she tugs her to the edge of the seat so that Yaz’s neck is at a slightly awkward angle, but she finds she doesn’t care when the Doctor presses her mouth to her core and kisses her reverently.

It’s such a gentle touch but it fans the fire that’s been building all afternoon. Yaz barely has a second to gather herself before the Doctor’s mouth opens entirely and she starts to enthusiastically eat her out. She could do it with her eyes closed - she does, technically - but she’s very good at setting Yaz off on a collision course with an explosive climax and she does within minutes, flicking her tongue over her clit in a way that makes Yaz’s eyes roll back in her head. 

She doesn’t realise her hand is in the Doctor’s hair until she’s tugging on it as she comes, fast, shocked at the speed of it. 

The Doctor takes a breather as Yaz recovers but before long she’s at it again, 

She really is a quick learner, Yaz knows. She’d discovered how to make her come so efficiently that she can do it within minutes; the flip side of that is that she also knows how to drag it out, so that the second and third time she comes, Yaz is hanging on the edge for what feels like forever. By that point, Yaz is desperate to feel her. Fingers aren’t quite doing the trick when she knows what the Doctor is wearing; they stretch her out nicely but Yaz longs to feel what the Doctor is packing between her legs and she writhes in the seat, impatient. 

“I’m ready,” she pants, and she can already feel a thin sheen of sweat coating her skin. “Really, really ready.”

The Doctor wipes her chin with her thumb and shoots her a devilish grin. 

"Swap with me," she says. Yaz pushes herself to her feet so that the Doctor can sit down but before she can get to her knees, the Doctor stops her. 

"Wait, no. I didn't mean that."

Secretly Yaz is a little relieved; she's not sure she'd have been able to fit the thing in her mouth.

"But if you wouldn't mind getting something for me...could you grab the fez, please?"

Yaz pauses. 

"Not the fez itself, Yaz. Just look inside."

Yaz is relieved to see a bottle of lube inside. She supposes the Doctor had her hands otherwise full, although the fact she opted to bring the headwear back at all does not bode well. She almost lets the offending item fall back to the floor but figures the Doctor wouldn't appreciate her mishandling the damned thing and she leaves it on the bed instead. She has more interesting things to contemplate now.

Like applying lube to the huge strapon the Doctor's picked out for them. Yaz can just about wrap her hand around it and when the Doctor bites her lip at the visual she takes her time, starting to stroke it more vigorously. She can see the Doctor's hips rising subtly as she fucks into her hand a little.

"Are you sure you don't want me to…."

Yaz trails off, embarrassed again, which is ridiculous really because she's not the one wearing a giant fake cock. The Doctor, on the other hand, seems quite at home with it all.  _ Of course she does. _

"Not today," the Doctor shakes her head. "Let's start off with something a bit more vanilla."

Yaz almost snorts with laughter and then she can see the Doctor's shoulders shaking as she tries to stop giggling too. They've got off track, so when the Doctor suddenly gets to her feet and practically sweeps Yaz off of her own, she swoons in surprise. She had been so sure she'd have been on top but apparently the Doctor has changed her mind.

"Change of plans," the Doctor utters, confirming Yaz's suspicions. She doesn't quite throw Yaz onto the bed but she doesn't deposit her gently, either, and then she's crawling up and over her so that her hands are braced on either side of Yaz's head. The toy, slick and cold, slaps against Yaz's stomach and she shudders. 

"Whoops, sorry," the Doctor mutters, reaching down so that she can run it through Yaz's folds instead. That makes Yaz shudder for an entirely different reason, especially when the tip presses right against her clit for a brief second.

The Doctor is teasing her now, watching her face as she starts to run the very tip of the toy up and down her slit.

"Stop messing," Yaz tuts after a few too many teasing strokes, reaching between them to take the slick silicone in her own hand. The Doctor lets her guide the tip to her entrance and watches as Yaz shifts her hips down to take the first couple of inches inside. 

Even though Yaz is more than ready to receive her, she can still feel herself stretching around the toy, and she's only just started.  _ Trust the Doctor to choose something so girthy _ . The Doctor continues to watch her intently and when Yaz's hand falls away she takes over, starting the gentle push inside. She stops whenever Yaz gasps, and she gently passes over her clit every now and again to ease things along; but eventually, Yaz wraps a hand around her backside and pulls and she gets the hint, which is handy because Yaz is incapable of actually forming words. 

When Yaz looks up into the Doctor’s face she can see a mix of gentle concern, then a smirk as she fully sheathes herself with a happy sigh.

"Alright?" the Doctor asks and her voice is so husky that Yaz can practically feel herself throb around the toy deep inside her.

"Alright," Yaz breathes. She looks down to where they're joined and her brows furrow as she takes in the sight. And what a sight it is. When the Doctor withdraws just slightly she can see the toy glisten with her arousal and she briefly wonders if she's ever been this wet. She wonders if it's going to dehydrate her later or if that's even a thing. Maybe she should ask the Doctor, she wonders, because she would no doubt know; but then the person in question shifts between her legs and Yaz shelves the question for a more opportune moment because right now she just needs to focus on adjusting to the stretch. She hisses slightly with it but it’s not bad; just a little on the edge of uncomfortable. She knows that once they get into the swing of things it’ll be worthwhile.

She tucks some of the Doctor’s hair behind her ear in a tender gesture and they regard one another without saying a single thing. Judging by the way the Doctor’s breathing she’s just as affected by what they’re doing and Yaz basks in the adoration shining from her hazel eyes.

Then the Doctor's face is coming so close that it’s hidden from view and Yaz wraps her arms around the Doctor’s neck as she kisses her, tugging her downwards. Moments later, her legs follow suit and temporarily wrap themselves around the Doctor’s waist in a hint to get moving. 

The Doctor takes it slow, thankfully; the first few thrusts are so glacial that Yaz can feel every inch as it’s withdrawn, but then it’s pushed back inside and she feels like she could be split in half and she moans so loudly that the Doctor almost stops entirely.

“Don’t you dare stop,” Yaz pants, and she can feel the faces she’s pulling but she can’t help it. It feels like she’s never been so full and there’s just something about the way that they’re holding one another that makes it feel like there’s not an inch of space. Even breathing is hard and Yaz has to ignore how much heat they generate when they’re pressed together or she’ll pass out from it. 

After a few experimental thrusts the Doctor finds her groove like a seasoned pro and all Yaz can do is hold on for the ride and swear. She knows her fingernails are digging into the skin of her shoulder but judging by the way the Doctor groans at the sting it’s not unwelcome and Yaz carries on. It’s not like she could let go, even if she wanted to. 

The noises they make are nothing short of primal and Yaz distantly wonders when things got quite so pornographic but she mentally thanks herself for suggesting they try this when the Doctor finds her g spot and keeps hitting it, listening to the feedback Yaz provides and adjusting accordingly. 

“Fuck, right there,” Yaz breathes, and she’s sweating now as the Doctor stays true to course. Her accuracy is unnerving but Yaz certainly isn’t complaining; all this has done is show her just how surprisingly good at sex the Doctor is. The only thing she wishes she’d done is taken the damn bra off but it’s far too late for that and she can just about make out the press of the Doctor’s breasts pressed against her own as she humps between her legs.  _ That will do _ .

Yaz tangles one hand in the hair at the nape of the Doctor’s neck and lets her hand wander south to grab hold of one of her ass cheeks, which tenses and flexes with every thrust. Yaz practically slaps her hand down on top of it and squeezes hard and the Doctor stutters slightly, her eyes widening. Then she grins, breathless, and Yaz grins back and her eyes slide shut as the Doctor picks up the pace, rutting faster than she had thought possible. 

Whatever the size of the thing is now is of no consequence; Yaz can take it and she does, over and over again. The Doctor is keen to reward her. 

“That’s it, Yaz. You take me so well. I’m so deep inside you.”

Yaz swears she could come from that alone and then she hears the bed creaking with their movements and thinks that might also do the trick. She looks down to see where they’re joined and feels herself tighten almost instinctively at the sight. 

“Jesus,” she swears, and she can barely breathe. It’s like the Doctor is fucking every atom of oxygen from her body but at least she’ll die happy. She squeezes her arse, opening her legs just that little bit wider and tugging on the Doctor’s hair at a particularly hard, deep thrust. 

“You’re so tight,” the Doctor grunts, her head dropping right by Yaz’s ear, and Yaz can hear just how hard she’s breathing. She’s on the receiving end and she’s exhausted, so she can only imagine just how hard the Doctor is working, but when she pulls away and positively beams at her, Yaz knows she doesn’t mind in the slightest. Then she reaches between them and starts to stroke her clit in a manner that’s so confident and precise that Yaz knows she’s done for. 

“Oh god that’s so good. That’s so good,” Yaz repeats, watching as the Doctor’s face gets even pinker. “You’re so good. You’ll make me come.”

The Doctor puffs out her cheeks and seems to contemplate slowing her pace, but Yaz is having none of it. They’re both reaching their limits and Yaz can sense an epic orgasm brewing; she doesn’t want to risk losing it. 

“Don’t you dare,” she repeats, pulling the Doctor down for a surprisingly gentle kiss. She likes to kiss her when she comes because it stops the Doctor thinking too much, and it works; the relentless pace continues and the change in position does something for both of them, clearly, going by the way the Doctor practically whimpers into her mouth. 

“You close?” Yaz asks, and the Doctor nods. 

“I want you to come inside me,” she encourages, and she starts to roll her hips. It’s a risky strategy given how close she is herself but it helps things along and she smirks as the Doctor’s eyes flutter close at the pressure. 

“That’s it,” she encourages. The least she can do is help the Doctor out given how hard she’s been working. The heat between them is astronomical now and Yaz feels like she can’t get enough air into her lungs but all that does is send a fresh wave of adrenaline through her body and when she watches the Doctor come she finally lets go, submitting to whatever her body is going to throw at her. 

It’s a lot. She can feel the Doctor still moving inside her but mostly she feels numb, from her toes right to the top of her head. It’s weird, like pins and needles, and then euphoria races shortly behind. Yaz can hear herself shouting as if from a distance and then there’s pressure against her chest as the Doctor slumps against it. She’s too busy enjoying herself to really notice and it’s like the room practically whites out, so much so that it takes more than a few minutes for her to actually see the woman panting hard against her breast. 

The Doctor slips out and Yaz makes a funny sound of discomfort. But then she feels nothing but soft kisses all over her skin. It tickles and she laughs, soaking up every second of affection the Doctor bestows on her. After endless moments, Yaz gradually comes to and when she sees the Doctor’s expression she rolls her eyes. At least, she thinks she does. The Doctor looks smug, and rightly so. 

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Yaz slurs, but she’s so blissed out that she doesn’t care how drunk she sounds. Blissed out and suddenly very, very tired. She’s almost certain she won’t be able to walk straight tomorrow.

“Can I return the favour a little later?” Yaz asks, stifling a yawn. A nap is all she needs, and then she’ll be right as rain. She’s not quite got the same stamina as the Doctor but the Doctor doesn’t mind; the Doctor is one of the most patient people she’s ever met. 

“No rush, Yaz,” the Doctor murmurs, kissing her forehead. “There’s only one condition.”

Yaz opens an eye to see the Doctor bending over the side of the bed and then her other eye opens in confusion. It’s not like the Doctor to make a condition of anything when it comes to the two of them. 

When she straightens back up, Yaz sees what’s in her hands. The fez.

“Please?” 

Yaz never could say no to that face.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, you can find me on Twitter @_mag_lex.
> 
> My fics are now on WordPress at maglexfic.wordpress.com. You should be able to subscribe there to all my new ones, since I won't be posting any new fics to Ao3 for the foreseeable future :)


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